The Other Side
by NeonDomino
Summary: After an accident during his escape from Malfoy Manor, Harry sees his time in the Wizarding world in a new light and decides he's tired of how things are going. He goes to meet with the Dark Lord to discuss a new way to change things. Pre Tom/Harry, a bit of WolfStar (of course).


Written for Lynn.

Prompts: Harry/Tom, [AU] Amnesia.

So, this is my first time writing this pairing. I've completely failed at adding any romance at all between them though. But maybe once I get more used to writing this pairing...

I hope you like it! :)

* * *

Harry winced at the pain shooting through his head. He briefly wondered if he had somehow hit his head on one of the shelves in his cupboard, or managed to bang his head by sitting up too fast, and knocked himself out. It was possible, as the cupboard was a bit too small for him. It was his own fault for not being more careful. He hoped he hadn't upset his aunt or uncle with the noise, he didn't want to be locked in the cupboard again.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking around, before frowning. He wasn't in his cupboard at all - he was in a bedroom. Confused, he tried to sit up, his head turning quickly as he tried to work out what bedroom as it didn't look like one in the Dursley's house, and he tried to ignore the pain that flowed through him. Harry froze as his gaze met that of a girl. "What in Merlin's name..." he began.

"Harry, you're okay!" she exclaimed. Arms were thrown around him, holding him tightly, jostling him and causing the pain to worsen. He winced; a small noise of protest passing his lips and the girl quickly let go of him, moving back and giving him space.

"Not to be rude, but who are you? What's going on?" Harry asked, immediately feeling the loss of the hug. It wasn't often it happened - the Dursleys weren't known for hugging him. It was nice though.

In fact, he couldn't recall the last time he had been hugged. If ever. He supposed that when he was born, his parents would have until they died in the car-crash, and maybe he had other family he lost too?

"It's me - Hermione, and we've just not long escaped Malfoy Manor," Hermione explained. "Bill and Fleur spent some time healing me, I've only just recovered myself, but you've been out for days. You were hit with a blasting curse and you hit the wall, or so Luna told me. I thought you were dead." Tears ran down her face. "You may feel quite woozy as you heal, as it'll still take a while."

"You're crying. I've never had anyone cry or be worried about me before," Harry murmured, reaching for the tears rolling down her face and wiping them away. Harry wondered what had come over him, acting as though he knew this girl well enough to touch her face.

"You have," Hermione replied. "I've cried about you plenty over the last few years as you very well know. I'm sure I'll cry quite a lot more times too."

"How many years?" Harry asked, frowning. "I sound different too? How old are you... how old am I?"

"Harry, you're seventeen," Hermione said, starting to look concerned.

Oh. That's... I thought... wait, are we dating?" Harry murmured.

"No, you prat, you're like a brother to me," she said through the tears, slapping his arm. "What is wrong with you? Why did you need to know your age." Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. "Harry. What... what do you remember last?"

"My cupboard," Harry murmured. "Why am I not in my cupboard? And what's a blasting curse? And what's Malfoy Manor? Wait, who are Bill and Fleur? Nothing is making sense to me! I don't understand how I'm seventeen!"

Hermione stared at him. "You don't... you don't remember?" she whispered. "No, you need to - wait, you said Merlin when you woke up. You can't have forgotten everything if you said 'what in Merlin's name', rather than 'what in God's name'.

"It just felt right," Harry explained. "I don't want to sound rude, but my head is aching. Could I have some water or something?"

"I can give you something for the pain, if you'd like?"

"I'm not allowed medication, that's for not-freaks," Harry murmured, closing his eyes.

"You are not a freak," Hermione said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him awake again. "It's all magic. You're magic, I'm magic. That's how we met, Harry. That's how we became friends - you saved me from a troll. Why would you think you were a freak?"

Harry looked riveted at her words, and Hermione pulled out her wand.

"Accio pain potion," she said, and the bottle moved from the bedside table into Hermione's hand, causing Harry's eyes to widen.

"Because Uncle Vernon said so," he muttered, his eyes on the wand. "Can you do that again... it was amazing. You're just like me!"

"Harry, I'm going to go and find Bill - he's a friend, so don't worry - and see what he can do for your memory loss," Hermione said. "I'll be back in a moment."

Harry looked sad at her leaving, as Hermione rushed to find Bill. After a quick explanation, Bill came into the room with some potions.

"Hey Harry, you might not remember me, but you were at my wedding a few months back," Bill began, smiling warmly. "I'm your friend Ron's older brother, and I'm the one who healed you. Now, I've got a few potions here - one that deals with head injuries and one that helps with lost memories. I'd like you to drink them."

Harry eyed the potions warily. "You just happened to have these?"

"I'm a curse-breaker. We're required to carry certain potions. Who knows when a tunnel will collapse, or something will shoot out at us... we have a standard set of potions that we take with us just in case. I happen to find it useful to keep the potions here at home too, who knows when you might need it. Best be prepared after all." He didn't make any move to give Harry the potions, allowing him a moment to think about it.

"Please, Harry," Hermione said softly, and Harry reluctantly accepted the potions, trusting Hermione's judgement.

The last one had Harry feeling tired, and through the haze he heard Hermione talking.

"He thinks he's back in his cupboard, so I'd say he's mentally ten or younger," Hermione was saying. "I hope he remembers who he is, because he called himself a freak! I can't believe his Uncle called him that. What a cruel and horrible man!"

"The potions will work," Bill assured her. "I've taken them myself before. The sleeping one is so that Harry won't get headaches from the first set of memories returning. At first it can be overwhelming and too much as they appear, but being unconscious helps the process.

...oOo...

Voldemort sat in the high-backed chair, a glass of wine in his hand as he thought about his next move. He was displeased at Lucius and Bellatrix for letting Harry Potter and his friends escape, but they had been severely punished. Lucius had no wand already, so he hadn't received the brunt of the punishment, but Bellatrix had been trained personally by him and should have managed three teenagers.

She had suffered the worst.

He was distracted from his thoughts by flashes of images hitting him. He knew immediately that they weren't his, and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the blur.

Strains of images hit him. The sight of a young boy with a mess of black hair told him that for whatever reason, the defences Harry's mind had, were now down. He was seeing memories returning to Harry Potter's mind, as though he had lost them.

Voldemort took his opportunity and sifted through the memories already in Potter's head, caught at one of a small boy being screamed at by Muggles. If he had a heart, it would have hurt at the sight. But he didn't have one... not since being revived. He blamed Wormtail for bringing him back wrong, but what did he expect with such an incompetent follower? He mourned some of the changes in him, but the lack of emotion and feeling he saw as a strength.

Yet, as he watched the memories, he felt a strange sense of pity at the way the boy was thrown into a cupboard, the word 'freak' following him. Taking more care than he thought possible in this body, Voldemort began to look through the rest of the memories. A small boy being beaten by his cousin, accidental magic and punishments for it happening. Being left out of celebrations, and not having his birthday celebrated.

Voldemort pulled back slightly, trying to catch a memory that was returning to Harry Potter's mind. He focused on watching the memory where the boy got his letter, and the lengths the muggles went through to stop him reading it - even taking him away from the house.

Fascinated now, as he hadn't known about Potter's childhood which reminded him a bit of his own (not that Voldemort would bring himself to really compare), Voldemort watched memory after memory come back, trying to get an idea of Potter's plans. There were some memories of Dumbledore that he had watched, but all he could see was a twisted old fool manipulating a small child into a weapon.

He couldn't deny that he was curious, as the memories slowed and stopped. That wasn't nearly enough memories returning, and he had a feeling that he would see a different Harry Potter.

Because Harry Potter was seeing the memories as he was. It wouldn't be hard to see the manipulations.

He just had to wait to see what Harry's next move was - and he knew there would be one, he could feel it through their connection.

And he tried to ignore the way Harry Potter's memories reminded him of his own childhood, and tried to ignore the weakness that was the feelings that returned at his own memories that he had long since buried.

Along with a strange feeling... as though he shared some sort of bond with the Potter boy. As he tried to delve deeper and work it out, pain shot through his own head.

...oOo...

"It sounds like my life really sucks," Harry said, frowning. He had taken some time to go through his memories, and it was like seeing them in a new light.

He was sure the younger him didn't see it like this, but now... now he was seeing things through the eyes of a seventeen year old. Even if he still wasn't feeling seventeen. Bill had assured him that his mind would adjust to the returning memories, and he would feel like himself again. "Dumbledore sounds quite... manipulative, doesn't he?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Sending a kid to fight a war when he could have taken Tom Riddle out himself," Harry began. "I mean, for someone all-knowing and powerful, he's left us in some pretty awful situations. I mean, surely if he saw that there was something wrong with Tom when he was at school, he would have helped him in some way? Maybe Tom would have turned out differently had someone actually given a crap about him?"

Hermione slowly nodded. "I always found it a bit strange that everything was pushed onto you, and I knew it was too much - especially after Sirius died -"

"Sirius? Who is Sirius?" An image of matted black hair and wild grey eyes came to mind, and Harry winced at the strange feeling it left in his mind as the picture of the man began to clear, though he struggled to place the man's role in his life.

"Your... your Godfather," Hermione murmured. "I'm sorry, I'm not thinking clearly, just telling you these things when you don't remember anything. I'll try and be a little easier with telling you things."

"I'm remembering some," Harry admitted. "Though not getting my letter. More... the later stuff. The fight with... with... in the bathroom with all the blood."

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione filled in, feeling hopeful that Harry's memories would return.

"Vol -"

"Don't say the name, it's taboo," Hermione shrieked, remembering the attack in London and again in the forest.

"Tom sounds like a right arse too," Harry muttered. "Has anyone actually tried to sit down and talk to him about all of this?"

"Sit down and talk to him?" Hermione repeated. "Merlin, you must have hit your head harder than I thought, I'll go and get Bill -"

"Hermione, please stay and hear me out," Harry begged, grasping her hand. "Look, I was kept in a cupboard until I was eleven years old. Surely Dumbledore checked up on me, that means he saw how I was living - that or he abandoned me there. Was there no-one else who would take me? Or is it always down to the Headmaster of the parents old school to find the kids homes?"

"You make a good point, but I don't see how that has anything -"

"And Voldemort is trying to kill me because of a propecy, right? Well, what if we can get him to come to an understanding?" Harry continued. "I mean, I'm being turned into a weapon, of course he wants to kill me first, he thinks Dumbledore has me out there trying to kill him."

"That's exactly what Dumbledore has you out there doing," Hermione whispered, looking around in a panic, expecting Death Eaters to find them since Harry had uttered the name. Fortunately, nothing happened.

"Well, you said that he got me to duel, so he's all about customs, right? You're smart, Hermione. You've probably researched this. Is there any Wizarding custom that we can invoke so we can meet with him and discuss a truce or the end of this, somehow?"

Hermione started to shake her head. "Harry, this is a bad idea," she warned.

"Well, this is what I plan to do. It's probably better if you don't come anyway. I wouldn't want you to get hurt," Harry replied.

"Get hurt? I'll have you know that I'm just as capable as you at looking after myself," Hermione insisted. "You can get a Wizard's oath. Powerful magic and he wouldn't be able to break it."

"Perfect. How do we go about that?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked pained at even considering meeting with Voldemort, but she knew that Harry had made his mind up. She knew that he would just up and leave to see Voldemort, with or without this agreement if she didn't do it for him.

She wasn't left with much of a choice. This would be the only thing that kept him alive.

"We can work on a parchment with your meeting outlined - date, time, location and whatever else. We state that he can't - nor anyone else on his behalf, set any traps or cause you harm of any kind. You must be free to return to where you had come from with no interference."

"That's it?"

"Well, you'll also need to write what you expect from the meeting so... he knows, and ask him to sign as a Wizard's Oath to the rules you have outlined."

"Perfect. Can you word it so he can't find a loophole?"

Hermione sighed and nodded, reaching for her small bag.

...oOo...

The Death Eaters looked around the entire next to the beach. The taboo had summoned them to that spot, but they couldn't see a single person around. They had tried to find the source of the person that had dared utter Voldemort's name, but an hour later, they had still come up empty handed.

There wasn't a building in sight, the beach seemed deserted.

The only ideas that they could come up with was either the people who said it apparated straight afterwards, or somewhere in the area was a building under the Fidelius charm.

Whichever was the case, it was a waste of their time to stay there. They had other things to do... like report in and accept their punishment for turning up empty handed.

...oOo...

Harry took a seat facing the dark-wizard.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said, red eyes examining Harry's face. "You requested my presence?" The last word was hissed, and Harry wondered if it was to intimidate him in some way.

It didn't work.

"Yeah, I did," Harry replied, waving his hand for Hermione to join him. She took the empty seat and tried not to look nervous in the presence of Voldemort, jutting her chin out and staring at him defiantly.

The Dark-Lord raised his eyebrows and waited.

"I want to discuss this war," Harry began. "I've had a... situation and it's caused me to re-evaluate my thoughts and memories and, by doing this at an older age, I can see a pattern of manipulation. I have no intention of being Dumbledore's weapon, and I'm not happy that he's using me to fight a battle that shouldn't have been mine to fight. I'm finished with this - I've spent my whole life doing what others have wanted of me, being who they expect me to be. I'm seventeen. I just want to date and hang out with my mates and stuff. Why me? Why can't I do something for myself?""

"The prophecy states that one of us must kill the other," Voldemort stated.

"Yeah, but it doesn't say when," Harry replied with a shrug. "It says the only person who can kill you is me, but what if I don't try and kill you, and in return, you stop trying to kill me and let me live my life? That way, we both win."

"You'd step down?" Surprise was evident on his face, though it was gone quickly. It was just too simple, so clearly Voldemort was suspicious.

"I have some demands of course," Harry said. "For a start, you don't hurt my friends, or the Muggleborns anymore. Magic blood is precious and there isn't much of it, so if you're killing witches and wizards, we're going to eventually die out. I'll step down if you go about what you want in a less psychotic way."

Voldemort laced his bony fingers together on the table, as he looked between the pair.

"And what of the Order?"

"I'll tell them to find themselves another hero," Harry replied. "If you can give me good enough reason, I'll tell them to step down too. A very good reason, and I'll have the good members turning neutral."

"Me not killing them is a good enough reason."

"They won't listen to that. There are powerful witches and wizards in the Order. Surely having them support you would do better than having them fight you? You've seen that they are powerful, so why not lure them over instead? Why waste such powerful blood?"

"You have a lot of faith in this plan," Voldemort commented, showing no emotion, just watching Harry carefully as he weighed the options in his mind. "You've put a lot of thought into this."

"You've recruited Werewolves and Vampires, promising them equal rights. Why them and not Muggleborns? I'm sure it's not a hard step to take to include muggleborns in that. I don't think you're fighting to get Purebloods the recognition they need, I think there's more to it."

There was a long silence. "For too long, Mudbloods -"

"Muggleborns," Harry corrected him.

"- have entered our world and brought their own customs, pushing our own aside. Our world is turning into one for the Mudbloods -"

"Muggleborns," Harry said again.

"- and not for the wizards."

"That's not the Muggleborns' fault," Hermione pointed out. "It's down to the school for celebrating Christmas instead of Yule, and it's down to the Ministry, surely they are the ones in control. Just because a Muggleborn turns up, going on about things like Christmas, it doesn't mean that the Wizarding world has to drop everything and celebrate it. Why not compromise - why not celebrate both sets of holidays?"

Voldemort contemplated it.

"Also, we're brought into your world and we're not made aware of the Wizarding holidays. I know things because of the books I read, but not everyone sits in the library and studies these things. We're not the ones at fault - we come into the Wizarding world, only knowing about our holidays, and no-one tells us any different. Maybe if there was a class in the first year for Muggleborns and half-bloods brought up in the Muggle world that explained these things to us, than the world could be more how you envisioned it."

Voldemort stared at her for a long time, but Hermione stared back, trying not to let the intimidation get to her. "This is all you ask? A more peaceful resolution to my goals?"

"No," Hermione replied. "There's more."

His red eyes fell on her once more, making her uneasy. "Sirius Black," she blurted out. "We know you've researched every way to make yourself live forever, every way to cheat death. Therefore you must have researched the veil in the Ministry. Perhaps in your findings, you know how to retrieve him?"

Voldemort slowly nodded. "I could perhaps find a way," he admitted.

"Good. We also want Peter turned over to the Ministry. Sirius needs to be a free man if he's going to support you."

"You think that Sirius Black would bow to me?"

"Why should he bow? Why can't you just greet people normally?" Harry groaned. "You'll have more people if you treated them better."

"This is a lot of demands. Why shouldn't I just kill you?" Voldemort asked. "I wouldn't need to turn over Wormtail, revive a dead man or stop killing."

"Because deep down, you know that what we suggest makes more sense," Hermione replied. "What is a magical world under your control if there are only a handful of witches and wizards left? Wouldn't you rather a world with more magic?"

...oOo...

Harry stared at the hand reaching for his. "I agree to your terms. I will bring back Sirius Black and hand over Peter. I will try this less-violent attempt to make my changes, but if it doesn't work -"

"I know, I know, you'll just be evil again," Harry finished.

"You will also announce your support for me."

"You know, I think this would be easier if you dropped the glamour," Hermione offered. "Voldemort is scary, but you could start again - without the glamours, you could be Tom Riddle, someone that the Ministry would be more likely to listen to."

"How do you know about the glamours?" Voldemort hissed.

"They are slightly off," Hermione replied. "When you turn your head, the glamour shifts for a split second. Why wear them at all? Why not just start again?"

"That's not possible -"

"Well, everyone thinks Harry is to kill Voldemort. If you're not Voldemort anymore, he's done his job, right... I mean, let the world think he's killed you. Harry's fulfilled his prophecy and can move on with his life and you... you can do whatever you want. Minister for Magic perhaps?"

...oOo...

Remus looked at the letter in his hand. The Order was in an uproar, with Harry and Hermione disappearing from Bill's home. He was in hiding himself, only in contact to accept missions.

Though he had received enough information about the disappearance.

A letter from Harry was great news. It enclosed a portkey, and when Remus checked it, it had a drop of Harry's blood.

He doubted a trap would be set for him of all people, he was merely a Werewolf - of no importance. Though, on the off-chance it was a trap, it meant that whoever had Harry and Hermione wanted him there.

Remus wouldn't let Harry down. He took the portkey and said Harry's name, activating it.

...oOo...

"Remus, you came," Harry said, standing up from the chair he occupied. Remus looked around, his gaze falling on Lucius Malfoy and a handsome older man, before moving to Hermione who was curled up in a chair in the corner. She unfolded her legs, setting her book down, as Remus drew his wand.

"Harry, I don't blame you for calling for me. Being used as bait -"

"Oh, I'm not bait. Me and Tom have come to an agreement," Harry explained, with a smile, gesturing to the handsome man.

Remus looked between Lucius and 'Tom'. "Tom?"

"Tom Riddle, as he's now going by. Me and Hermione were talking, and we felt you should be here."

"Isn't Tom Riddle..."

"He was, but after I realised that there were better ways to go about things, me and Tom decided to talk and we've agreed to go about things a little less violently."

Remus didn't lower his wand and Voldemort didn't raise his, merely sipping his wine as he watched the proceedings. Remus' eyes were on Lucius, whose wand was held firmly in his hand.

"Harry, I don't know if you're thinking this through -"

"Remus, don't you understand what's been happening? The manipulation that Dumbledore put in place?" Harry asked. "Tell me, how many students at Hogwarts were Werewolves? He manipulated you too - he gave you normalcy and friends and a chance to be like everyone else, to the point of letting Sirius get one over on Snape for that prank, and keeping Snape's silence. At the end of it, you would have done anything for him because you believed you owed him so much."

"I did owe him," Remus murmured, feeling uncertain at the amount of truth in Harry's words.

"Then he dumped me with the Dursleys. Did he ever check on me? Did anyone else even want me?"

"I fought for you," Remus insisted. "Dumbledore insisted that the Dursleys could protect you better than I could. He explained about the protection, but said we had to stay away - that Petunia would only care for you if we kept our distance. I wanted -"

"Remus, I'm not mad at you," Harry said softly. "But Dumbledore has been in control for too long. He made people think that they owe him something. You, Snape, me. Dumbledore could have stopped this before it started. Tom, a boy stuck in a Muggle orphanage - treated like a freak. Me, stuck in a cupboard under some stairs, treated like a freak. He only cares about those that could help him. Those that he could control."

"So, what are you asking of me?" Remus asked.

"I've made a deal with Tom," Harry explained, looking at the silent man in the other chair. "He's going to take it easy - no more murders and stuff. He's going to fight the Ministry the proper way."

"And what way is that?" Remus asked, doubtfully.

Harry gestured for Remus to sit down, and he did, gingerly, his eyes never leaving the other two men in the room.

"Wizengamet. There are chairs that we can fill. I can fill my family chair, and there's the Black chair."

"Which belongs to Nymphadora Tonks," Remus said.

"I'm sure you'll find it belongs to Draco, because of Andromeda's disownment," Lucius said.

"But Draco would be entitled to the Malfoy seat, and no-one can hold two seats. Narcissa is a Malfoy, so Andromeda could fight for it for her daughter," Remus explained.

"None of that matters," Hermione offered. "We were thinking of Sirius taking it."

Remus' wand lowered. "Sirius is dead," he said, hollowly.

"No, he went through the veil," Hermione explained. "And who knows more about cheating death and staying alive than Tom Riddle? I suspected he knew about the veil, and my assumptions were correct. He believes he can get Sirius out."

"Believes? That sounds very... confident," Remus murmured.

"It is part of our deal," Tom said, speaking up for the first time. "Mr. Potter wants Sirius Black back, and for the rat to be turned in to the Ministry to gain Blacks' freedom. In return, I expect Sirius Black to bow to me."

"I thought we covered the whole bowing thing," Harry muttered, frowning. He turned to Remus. "Isn't this what's best? Tom isn't going to kill any longer. There will be no more Voldemort, and no more Death Eaters. He wants to improve the Wizarding World and he's going to go the right way about it. He recruited Werewolves and Vampires, promising them equality, which is more than the world offers now."

Remus hesitated. "You've made your mind up?"

Harry nodded. "This is what I'm doing. I'm on his side, and I'm going to have a normal life. I'm going to hang out with friends, date, sleep in, and not worry about being killed. The prophecy said that I would have to be the one to kill Voldemort, so I've decided not to. Now there's no threat from me, so he won't kill me."

"Why am I here?" Remus asked. "What do you need me to do?"

"Because you're one of the few people that really care about me, one of the few that I trust. You and Sirius are family, and I wanted to explain to you directly what's going on."

Remus' head was a jumble. He had always seen Dumbledore as someone who had given him so many opportunities, but Harry had made a point. After Hogwarts, he had been sent out to live with the Werewolves, though the school had spent his teenage years showing him that he was like everyone else - the time with the Werewolves had just reminded him what sort of monster he was. He was sent on the hard missions. He felt he owed Dumbledore and took any and all assignments given, just to prove himself to Dumbledore.

He was Dumbledore's faithful Werewolf. Harry was right, Dumbledore had been manipulating him.

"Well, I can't very well leave you alone here," Remus stated. "If you're staying, I'm staying. I will... discuss this with Sirius _if_ he does return."

"He will," Tom hissed... though it wasn't so intimidating now that he had a nose.

...oOo...

Until the moment Sirius stepped through the veil and into his arms, Remus didn't truly believe that it could happen. He had watched as runes were drawn onto the veil, and spells cast to freeze it.

Voldemort walked into it, and a moment later, he returned, following a disoriented wizard.

Remus embraced Sirius, breathing his scent in and feeling their bond. He knew this was _his_ Sirius. Once he let go, he turned to Tom and dropped to his knees, his head bent.

The man had returned Sirius to him.

"Moony? What's... what's going on?"

"We're working with Tom now, isn't that great?" Harry said, hugging his Godfather. "We've come to an agreement. No more killing people. Oh, and Pettigrew has been caught, so you're free."

"But he's... he's..."

"He's going to change things, Sirius. It's in writing, a wizard's oath sealed by blood. He brought you back, he turned Wormtail over and he's going to value all types of magical blood."

"It's an oath? You saw him sign it?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded.

Sirius turned to Tom Riddle. "I'm not going to bow to you, but if Remus, Harry and Hermione trust you, I swore to protect each of them. As long as you stay sane, you have my support."

...oOo...

 _Tom Riddle Wins Minister for Magic_

 _In a surprise turn of events, Tom Riddle has won the election for Minister for Magic._

 _Backed by two influential wizards, Harry Potter and Sirius Black, his rise in popularity was quick with these two on his side._

 _We at the Prophet expect great things from our new Minster and his protégé,_ _Harry Potter._

 _For more information on the election, please turn to page three._

* * *

Thanks to: Firefly, Raybe and Xanda for the help/tips and Jordi for betaing.

Please review :)


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